I have been on a MacBook Pro since December. I am still waiting for my moment of epiphany when I really perceive Mac as being superior to Windows.

To be fair, most of the problems that I have on my Mac are related to Windows software and networking. I primarily wanted a Mac for music and film editing. But if you are working in a Windows Office / Exchange environment, you’re going to encounter more issues than a PC user.

But not all of the issues on my Mac are Windows related. I see both computers as having their own set of problems. I find usability incredibly inconsistent on Macs. Macs feel like they are designed for a child: with cute icons that are often not labeled and a user-friendly Finder that compromises speed for usability. Usability Steve Krug, in his book, “Don’t Make Me Think”, even cites a few major Apple usability problems to demonstrate how prevalent usability issues are.

When I mention my issues to Mac enthusiasts, they often react as if I made a “your mama is so fat” joke. For these fans, there is no middle ground. Think of it this way: the brand reputations couldn’t be more different. Microsoft represents “the dark side” (commonly used among Mac fans), and Apple is the hip, smart, young guy we see in the PC Guy commercials. The brand messaging does a lot to make Apple users dig their heels in the ground. I see Mac enthusiasts as a population largely comprised of people who derive much of their identity externally – often by way of the brands with which they associate themselves. These fans see the urban chic iPod videos and see themselves.

But for people who feel strongly about an issue — for Apple fanatics, for abortion partisans, for folks who think they know the truth about global warming or what’s going on in the Middle East — personal views feel distinct and luminous. Journalistic “objectivity” inevitably produces a muddier picture.

The article adds:

But many fans of Apple often seem to want more. They care little for honest opinion. They want to pick up the paper and see in it a reflection of their own nearly religious zeal for the thing they love. They don’t want a review. They want a hagiography.

In 1996, having recently completed a fermentation program in Davis (CA), I moved to San Francisco to brew beer.

Everyday, I put on rubber boots, gloves, and a protective, industrial version of a farmer’s overalls. The work I did with my colleagues ended up in either kegs or bottles. Packaging beer is an explosive, messy process. Bottles would break, sending glass and beer around the room. Kegs became geysers.

But at the end of the day, our work had physical presence. We would move the cases and kegs into a truck, knowing that within days and weeks, our work would be in the bellies of people all over California.

But in the digital world, I feel like everything I do ends up in a document.

Additionally, my work sometimes seems shaped by the constraints of the document.

Powerpoint? Ok, I’ll create slides to create an emotional impact (making sure not to just put up bullet points with no images).

Excel? Ok, I’ll show the relationship between everything.

Word? Not a problem – we’ll create a table of content and you’ll see what a great writer I am.

I wonder what my work would become if I didn’t have to design its embodiment by reverse engineering from the document options.